Risen
by K-9 Style
Summary: A fallen continent. A ruthless dictator. All hope is lost. A secret that has been kept for years may be the key. And only a few unlikely allies may be able to restore peace.
1. The Beginning

**--The Beginning--**

_**January 8, 2008**_

_**The Eastern Continent, Midgar**_

--

The fabric of her sweet, innocent, little girl's dreams were torn—ripped apart by what she misconceived to be thunder at first. She sprang up in her bed, pink silk sheets falling away from her tiny form. The shadows in the room seemed to move before her eyes, making her skin crawl.

She had the creeping sensation that she was being watched. She was not alone. She gripped the end of the bed sheets and held them to her chest. Her breathing was shaky and frightened.

"Who—Who's there?" she called out in a meek little voice.

A woman stepped into the moonlight. The girl released the sheets and breathed a sigh of relief.

"You scared me!" she hissed.

"Hush now, baby." The woman said, "It's time to go."

"What? Now?" the little girl protested, but the woman had already pulled her from her bed.

"Yes. There isn't much time." She turned to the little girl and handed her a few heavy, gray cloths. "Cover yourself in these. It's quite chilly outside."

The little girl did as she was told, pulling the cloths over her nightgown and dark hair. Her attention was drawn to the window as a bright spark of orange light lit up the pitch night sky. The booming sound that followed caused her to jump. The light had descended upon the city below, exploding amongst the residences and buildings.

"Let's go!" The woman ordered the little girl, grabbing her delicate wrist and pulling her from the room. She'd also covered herself in gray cloths. The little girl wondered when she'd taken the time to do so.

"Wait!" she cried out, stopping, "Let me get Pepper!"

The young woman waited while the girl snatched her beloved toy from the bed and clutch it against her chest. She gave a flash of a smile. There wasn't time for much else. She held onto the girl's hand and pulled.

The little girl followed the woman's lead, creeping down the dimly lit hallways of the mansion, pressing their backs against the wall as a group of soldiers passed at the junction in front of them. The woman continued to pull on the little girl's wrist, leading her towards the rear exit of the mansion.

"Where are we going?" the little girl asked, the fright in her voice causing her words to quiver.

"Somewhere safe." The woman turned to face the little girl, rust-hued eyes friendly yet worried, "Stay close to me and don't look back, no matter what, ok?"

The little girl nodded. The woman responded with a slight smile, then turned and continued through the doors and into the mansion's spacious gardens. In the distance was a tall, ivy-covered wall that was of the same coral stucco material as the mansion itself. The top of the wall was lined with barbed wire.

As they crept across the garden, passing lush orchids and colorful hibiscus and leafy ferns, two soldiers whom the little girl didn't recognized stopped them in their tracks. They were armed with naught but a pair of nightsticks.

"Halt!" One of them said, holding his hand out and pressing against the woman's chest to stop her.

She didn't hesitate to act. With one swift movement, she grasped the soldier's wrist and jerked it violently to the side where it twisted unnaturally. The man only had a few moments to scream and, as the little girl's doe eyes grew wide in shock, the woman's foot met his gut with such force that he was sent sprawling on his back into a rosebush.

The second soldier gasped in surprise, reaching into his belt to withdraw his nightstick, but the woman was fast. She hit him with a roundhouse kick to his face and a second drop kick that knocked him unconscious on the ground. She relieved him of his nightstick, tossing it into the fish pond where it sank to the bottom.

She stole a quick glance back at the little girl, who was gazing up at her as if she were a complete stranger. She sighed, regretting that the girl had to see her act in such a way.

"Come on!" she ordered, yanking the girl from her trance and taking her to the wall.

"I need you to climb." She said to the little girl, squatting to meet her eye to eye. "Can you do that for me?"

"I—I think so." The little girl replied, trembling, "What about the wire?"

"I'll be right behind you and I'll take care of it." The woman said, "Go quickly!"

And the little girl obeyed, using the thick ivy as footholds for her climb. The young woman followed beside her, encouraging her the entire way. When they reached the top of the wall, the woman acted fast. She pulled a pair of wire cutters from her pocket and snipped the barbed wire in half. Then, using her gloved hands, she pulled apart the wire, freeing up a small space which they would be able to pass through.

"Go!" She ordered the girl, ignoring the obvious and bloody injuries to her hands.

The little girl looked down. It was a big drop. She shrieked and gripped the top of the wall with white knuckle intensity. The woman looked at her with wild eyes.

"What? What's wrong?"

"It's… so high!" The girl wailed.

"I'll go first, then I'll catch you." The young woman gave a slight nod, then jumped from the top of the wall onto the ground below. She turned and looked up at the girl. "Jump!"

"I can't!" The girl whined, tears streaming from her face.

"Come on, baby! I'll catch you! I swear!" she held her arms outstretched, "You trust me, don't you?"

The girl nodded. The nearby sounds of explosions and gunfire and people screaming continued to flood the background. The little girl held her breath and silently counted to three. Before she even reached the number 3, a large explosion rocked the mansion. It was like a cannonball had been fired through the roof, leaving fire in its wake. The force of the explosion was so strong, it sent the little girl flying from the top of the wall.

The young woman acted fast, wheeling backward on her heels to break the girl's fall. The tiny little body crashed into her arms and they both fell back onto the pavement below. The woman felt the wind rush out of her lungs as her back collided with the earth, pinned between that and the little girl's body.

"Are you okay?" the little girl asked quietly, heaving her body off of the young woman's.

"I'm… fine…" she replied, standing shakily and breathing heavily. "Let's… keep going…"

As they navigated the streets, the true extent of the chaos that was unfolding around Midgar was revealed. While the city had never exactly been clean and neat, the order that had once stood was now in complete disarray.

Men, women, and children alike ran through the streets. People were crying and screaming and bleeding and holding onto one another tightly. Some people were even carrying their injured loved ones on their backs as they fled from their homes.

A lot of the residences that had once stood proud on the streets had been reduced to piles of rubble and, in worse cases, ash. A fire blazed in the distance, growing in intensity. The little girl's eyes grew wide and she could feel the heat rising in the cold, wintery street. The woman's gentle tugging on her arm pulled her away from the scene.

It was then that the little girl began to weep. Her steps were slow and dragging. The woman turned to look at her and the little girl collapsed onto her knees, sobbing. The woman gave her a sympathetic look, her own eyes tearing up at the sight. But there was no time for sorrow. No time for sadness. If they stopped now…

The girl clutched the beloved toy against her breast. "Why? Why is this happening?"

"I don't know." The woman said honestly, "But I know that your parents would want you to survive. They'd want you to do everything you can to carry on!"

The little girl blinked away the tears and gazed up into the woman's eyes. The truth and the hope that sparkled behind those russet orbs renewed her spirits. She sucked in a breath, frowned, and nodded matter-of-factly. The woman smiled and extended her hand for the little girl to take.

"That's my girl." She said, pulling the little one closer to her side.

The streets of southern Midgar, by the water, were dark and damp; An ice cold rain had begun to fall. Thunder echoed in the distance, indicating an approaching storm, competing with the explosions and gunfire that could be heard from central Midgar. The cobblestone paths were cluttered with garbage and street urchins searching for refuge. Soldiers dressed in full black uniform were tramping through the area, guns and riot shields in hand.

In the shadows of the pitch black sidewalks, the little girl and the young woman slinked along in the shadows, keeping out of sight of the soldiers as they passed. The chaos was a little quieter here, not that this area of Midgar had fared well either. In fact, it appeared that this had been the original starting point of the attack. It seemed as though the destruction that had ravaged the mansion had already passed through here.

Houses and buildings had been laid to waste. Fires were burning amongst the piles of garbage that lined the sidewalks. Corpses littered the streets, left behind like useless waste. The young woman did her best to keep the little girl's innocent eyes from falling upon the heavy sight of death that lay all around.

The little girl couldn't help but look about curiously as the crowds scrambled by frantically. Most were ignored, but one was stopped in his tracks by a soldier who had fallen out of formation. The soldier stopped the man by pointing the long barrel of his shotgun at the man's chest.

"You there!" the soldier barked at the man, who was dressed in black clothes with a red insignia printed on the sleeve of his shirt.

"What?" the man shouted back in a manner that was less than respectful.

"Are you a refugee?" The soldier asked, "The camps are in Sector 5! Get your ass over there!"

"Screw you!" The man reached into the waistband of his pants and came back with a gun pointed at the soldier's head.

The flash of the gun was blinding, the bang resonating in the air. To the surprise of the onlooker, and the man dressed in black, the soldier had grabbed the man's arm and sent the bullet into the air. He began laughing, mocking the man. There was another loud bang, this time from the soldier's shotgun. It was over just like that-- a flash of white light, the sound of bone shattering, a spent shell falling to the ground, and finally of blood and tissue splattering everywhere.

The young woman noticed the girl jump and gasp. Her smaller companion had witnessed the murder. She drew the child to her, offering the cloak as a shield for frightened eyes. She had to look away herself; the sight was unnerving.

"Don't look at it." she hissed.

But as they slipped into a dark alley, fleeing the scene, the curious child glanced back once more, appalled but intrigued by the first glimpse of death. The poor man's body shuddered once more on the ground before ceasing to move at all.

The escapees managed to elude the remaining patrolling soldiers, finally arriving at the water. It appeared that there was someone here waiting for them, as though he'd been expecting them. A burly, dark man sat inside of a small, wooden boat that was bobbing up and down in the calm waves. He seemed to recognize them as they approached.

"Ronni." The dark man said amicably, addressing the woman, "You made it."

The woman responded with a shout and removed her cloak. Her long, crimson hair fell loose around her shoulders. She smiled at the dark boatman, approaching him quickly.

"Barret, I am glad to see you made it here in one piece." she embraced her comrade. "You have to take her to the Northern Continent, Barret. Right away. Don't look back." Ronni said in reference to the little girl.

"What about you?" Barret asked, "I ain't leavin' you here."

Ronni smiled. "I'll be fine. Sephiroth and The Remnants have bigger things to worry about."

"What's that?" Barret wondered.

"The Crimson Archangels."

"Those #! bunch of punks?" the dark man cursed.

"The very same. I don't like 'em too much myself, but they may be able to help us."

"I don't trust 'em. Buncha #! sneaky punks!"

Ronni chuckled. "Save your anger for those who really deserve it, B." she knelt down and squinted to get a better look at her pint-sized companion.

"How are you, Marlene?" she asked, smiling at the young girl.

"I'm okay." a meek voice replied from beneath the folds of cloth.

"Listen, you've gotta go now, okay?" Ronni continued, "I need you to be brave. Can you do that?"

Marlene nodded.

"Great." she glanced quickly up at Barret. "This is my good friend, Barret. He's going to take you somewhere safe."

"Will you be there, too?" the girl asked worriedly.

"I'll meet up with you two later." Ronni touched her face affectionately.

"You promise?" Marlene pressed.

Ronni wasn't quick to respond at first. Marlene tried again.

"Promise me, Ronni! You're the only family I have left."

"I promise." Ronni finally said as she smoothed a hand across the back of the young girl's head. "Now go on. Get in the boat."

Marlene did as she was told. Barret hoisted the small girl into the boat gently.

"Be safe." Ronni said, blinking away tears.

"You be safe, too, kid." Barret said, embracing the young woman. "Your ass had better get to the hideout cave alive, y'hear me?"

Ronni chuckled. "Just take good care of this little girl. She might be the key to everything in the end."

Barret mock saluted his friend. "Aye, aye, captain." he stepped into the boat once more. "Ready Marlene?"

The young girl looked up at the boatman. "I'm ready."

Ronni watched from the shore as the dark man and the youngster paddled away in the small boat, headed for a safer place. She prayed inwardly to the gods to watch over her friends; They would need it.

The redhead stared out into the distance just long enough to see the boat fade into the night, swallowed up by the pitch black. Then, with a pounding heart and an attempt to build up her nerves, she headed back towards the central streets.

"Odin help us all." she muttered to no one in particular.

-

-

-

-

The battle, which had been dubbed The Fall of the Eastern Continent, raged on for days, weeks. Endless nights of screams and people dying and fires burning and bombs going off haunted Ronni's dreams. She sometimes regretted her decision to remain on the forsaken continent, wishing she could be with Marlene and her friends somewhere safe.

But now, Ronni wandered the streets alone, trying to stay out of the sights of the patrolling soldiers. They'd been patrolling the entire time, weeding out their foes. There had been many executions; people had been shot to death in the streets for allegedly conspiring against the government. Amidst all the terror, she had to stay strong. She had to remind herself why she hadn't gone with Barret when he'd come almost 2 weeks ago. She had decided to stay behind instead of retreating because she had someone that she cared about whom she needed to evacuate before she could leave the continent. The only family she had left was her cousin. They'd lost all their remaining loved ones in this senseless war.

She was walking along a deserted road, kicking her feet as she went, hands stuffed in her pockets. The sound of approaching footsteps caused her entire body to tense up. If the soldiers caught her now, they'd surely stop to interrogate her. And if they recognized her, they'd probably take her into custody and bring her back to the mansion where she'd be questioned, and likely tortured, into giving information about Marlene.

She couldn't allow that to happen. Acting fast, she ducked inside of an abandoned establishment: a rundown, empty bar. She slipped through the door, allowing it to close quietly behind her. She watched from behind a partially broken and filthy window as a squad of soldiers passed through the street. She was in the middle of breathing a sigh of relief when she felt a cold, sharpness against her throat.

"Don't fuckin' move." A low voice grumbled in her ear, causing her skin to pucker with goose pimples.

Ronni held her arms up. "I'm not armed."

"I can see that," the male voice continued (he smelled of fish), "What are you doing here?"

"I was just… I didn't want the soldiers to find me, so I hid. Here."

"Who are you?" the man whirled her around while at the same time repositioning his knife so that it's tip was now pointed at the base of her throat.

"I'm just a citizen… trying to get away."

"Jensen!" another, familiar voice called out.

The man's green eyes turned from Ronni for only a second. It was all the time she needed to turn the tables. She managed to relieve the man of his weapon and strike him hard across the face with the back of her hand. The pain radiated from her knuckles.

"Ronni!"

"Oh, gods!" Ronni smiled as she recognized the owner of the familiar voice. "Philion!"

The young, black-haired man embraced her, chiding the first man for attacking her prematurely.

"Ronni! You're alive!" he breathed, eying her to make sure she was all right.

"I'm all right, Phil." She sighed, "Who the hell is this?" she gestured to the man who'd attacked her.

"My name…" the man stood up, wiping a small trickle of blood from his mouth, "Is Kyle."

"Well, Kyle." Ronni handed the blade back to the man, "I apologize for this misunderstanding." She smiled warmly at Philion, "If you run with this guy right here then you're all right with me."

Kyle scoffed. "Whatever."

"Ronni, I am so glad to see that you're all right!" Philion continued.

"Me, too, Phil…" she made a face, "Wait a minute, what are you doing here?"

"Wha—"

"Weren't you in Edge?" Ronni's voice grew high pitched and frantic suddenly, "I thought you were supposed to stay there and look after things! What are you doing in Midgar, Phil? What happened?"

"Calm down, Ronni." Philion grabbed his friend's shoulders.

"Yeah, quit spazzing out." Kyle muttered as he wiped down the blade of his knife with a cloth.

Philion shot him a look. "It's not safe in Edge anymore, Ronni. The soldiers began their intrusion at 0800 hours yesterday morning—"

"No!" Ronni screeched, "I have to get there! I have to get there now!"

"Ronni…" Philion began delicately.

But she pushed his arms away from her and ran out the door the way she'd came in.

"Ronni!"

"Crazy bitch." Kyle muttered, rolling his eyes as Philion followed her.

"Ronni! You can't go to Edge now! It's not safe there!" Philion called out to her as she marched down the street.

"I have to! I need to get her out of there!"

"Who?"

Before Ronni got a chance to answer him, a silent bullet, marked only by a high velocity whizzing sound, hit Philion in the chest. Right at his heart. Ronni instinctively fell to the ground and began scrambling for cover. She watched through tear-filled eyes as Philion's body crumpled to the ground, one of his hands clutching his oozing chest.

"Phil!" she breathed, "Fuck!"

She looked high, scanning the tops of tall buildings for sharpshooters. A signal she recognized, made by holding a mirror to reflect the light of the sun, appeared at the top of one building. If there was one sharpshooter here, there was definitely another. She needed to get far away from here.

Staying low, and keeping close to the buildings and houses, Ronni sprinted without looking back. She heard the gravel behind her cracking and splattering pebbles behind her, broken from the force of the sharpshooter's bullets as he followed her movements.

Ronni didn't look back once, knowing far too well what would happen to her if she hesitated even once. She rounded the corner of the last building on the street, ending up on a crowded main road that was congested by the steady flow of slow-moving citizens. She held back her tears as she made her way through the crowd, excusing herself politely as she pushed by bodies who were moving in the opposite direction.

From the top of a building overlooking a crowded street, a man who was armed with a sniper rifle sat awaiting his signal. A flash of reflected light caught his eye and he smiled. Time to get to work. He lowered his shades on his face so he could get a better look at the crowd below.

When he spotted the girl, he recognized her immediately. He never forgot a target, especially one as beautiful and important as she. He stared down the scope, taking aim, careful to avoid the crowd surrounding her. The crosshair met its mark and the man gently squeezed down on the trigger…

Ronni continued pushing through the crowd, looking behind her and above her, not really sure if there was another sharpshooter waiting for her. She heard the brief whizzing of another bullet before it caught the person standing to her left in the throat. She shrieked as the man reached out, sputtering as he choked on his own blood. He reached for Ronni desperately, splattering her with blood.

"Ugh!" she cried out in disgust.

She didn't have time to dodge the next shot as it came down on her so quickly. The bullet caught her in her chest, right beside her heart. She fell to her knees and pressed her hand against the wound. When she pulled her hand away, it was covered in fresh, warm blood. She sighed, fully expecting another shot that would kill her instantly.

The sharpshooter grinned mischievously. "Target is down." He said into his headpiece, "I repeat, target is down." He then set the rifle down on the rooftop beside him. A voice in the headpiece crackled: "I hear you, 72. You know your orders."

A second shot was fired into the redhead's skull.

Before this shot hit its mark, Ronni managed to utter a single phrase: "Marlene, Tifa… I'm sorry…"

* * *

A/N: I realize this is quite the long prologue. I had a much shorter version that I wasn't quite as happy with so I posted this one. So until next time... Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 1

**--Chapter 1.o--**

_**January 14, 2012**_

_**Four years later**_

_**The Eastern Continent, Edge**_

--

She navigated the ruined streets of Edge like a minnow swimming deftly amongst its schoolmates. She didn't slow down one bit, even as the crowd pressed on around her; She just weaved in and out, dodging elbows and shoulders and the like. She was a woman on a mission. It was 10 minutes to 2 o'clock and the bar was scheduled to open at said hour. She'd spent the better part of the morning doing her morning training in the city's one remaining park and she'd lost track of time. Yet even though she depended on the bar's business to make a living in this shabby city, she couldn't duck out of her training regime. She needed to be in top shape. You never knew what might happen.

She approached her destination and fished around in her left pocket for the property keys. She was startled by a group of young people who came barreling down the street, shouting and knocking over a bunch of trashcans that had been placed out on the corner the night before. She groaned and rolled her eyes as they continued on, not concerned with the mess they'd left in their wake.

"Just another day!" she said with a sigh, pushing her way into the now unlocked building.

Ever since the fall of the Eastern Continent, things had been almost completely out of order. Gangs ran rampant in the streets, terrorizing anyone with whom they crossed paths. The citizens lived in constant fear. The government's laws were strict and if you disobeyed, you were murdered—often in the streets so that others could see the consequences of being disobedient. The government soldiers, otherwise known as the Policia Militar (or PM for short), made sure the laws were enforced, but they were a cruel bunch. Often times, they would take women and rape them.

Some businesses were to remain open, though now a hefty 15 tax was placed on all citizens and businesses, to be surrendered monthly or face the penalty of death. The people who had survived the fall were still stuck in the refugee camps of Sector 5 and weren't permitted to return home, since more than half of the homes had been completely destroyed.

Because of these harsh laws and inhumane treatment of citizens, many rebel groups and coalitions had surfaced. They remained in hiding, but were at the top of the government's most wanted list, dead or alive. Dead was probably better, however, because rebels who had been captured alive and taken back to the prisons were brutally tortured for days before tasting death.

However, in comparison to Midgar, Edge was a stroll in the park. It certainly had seen the least amount of executions, gangs, and PM and it also had the most amount of businesses. The people of Edge were frightened, to say the least, of the new leader and his subordinates. He was known to be a sadistic man.

Edge had been cleared of "terrorists", which is what the government was calling the rebel groups, long ago. Only few remained, the most notorious of which was the Crimson Archangels. But they were said to have been wiped out a year ago with the successful capture of their leader, Hahn Domo, and his eventual execution.

Come to think of it, Edge hadn't seen a big battle in quite some time.

While Edge and the Eastern Continent weren't what they had once been, she still had her bar--her pride and joy. Tifa's Seventh Heaven; Manager and proprietress: Tifa Lockheart.

Tifa flipped on the lights and took a look around. Octavio, the guy she'd hired to clean up after closing had been worth the money, apparently. The place looked spotless and orderly, not a single dust bunny remained. She went into the back room and opened the safe to pull out the minimum amount for her till. After preparing the register, she made sure the glowing "open" sign was active. It was 2 o'clock already. Time to boogie.

So the first couple of hours of Tifa's shift were uneventful and ordinary; Her regulars came by for their early afternoon drinks joined by the alcoholics, and soon after the regular Joes who worked the morning shift. She had just finished serving a customer a Paralyzer when a familiar character walked through the door. She sucked in a quick breath and turned around, hoping to sneak out back before she was noticed.

"Hey, there, Lockheart!"

"Shit." she cursed, transforming her frown into a bright smile before turning to face the person who was addressing her.

He was a regular who came by nearly every day around 4 o'clock, which is when he said he got off of work. Though what work he did remained unclear. Not that she cared, really. He was a repulsive character, creepy to say the least. He might have been attractive if he wasn't always being so indecent. She figured the less she knew of him, the better. But she did know a little about him after all.

She knew his drink of choice was a Black Jesus with Johnnie Walker Black Label and Jager herbal liqueur. She also knew that he would probably end up drinking himself into near unconsciousness by the end of the night; He often stayed until last call. He'd had a few late nights that had eventually resulted in his being tossed out on his drunken ass. She also knew his first name was Reno. He hadn't given a last name and she never bothered to ask.

He slid into a vacant stool and rested his elbows on the table. He leaned in and leered at her in that trademark way that made her skin almost crawl; Blue-green eyes that she considered his best feature, disheveled red hair pulled into a low ponytail, Ray-Bans perched atop his head, rumpled black suit, unbuttoned and un tucked white dress shirt--his usual appearance.

Before he could even utter another word, Tifa had already prepared and poured his drink. She slid it towards him and made a move to leave, but he stopped her with a grab of her wrist.

"What's up, babe?" he asked, feigning offense, "Don't wanna stay and chat? I've had a long day. Could use some company."

Tifa smirked and moved close to him, so close their cheeks almost touched. "Reno, we both know that I am a couple of steps above the 'company' that you prefer."

"Ouch." He winced, "C'mon, Lockheart. I can be a sensitive guy, too."

"Yeah, right." She rolled her copper colored eyes and stepped back.

Reno tossed back his drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand after. "Can I get another, sweetheart?"

Tifa drew a long, hard sigh and poured him his second Black Jesus. "Are Jose and I going to have to peel you off of the floor like we did last time? You're starting off quick!"

Reno chuckled. "For your information, Miss Lockheart, I am perfectly capable of peeling my own self off of the floor, thank you."

"Just don't go starting shit with people, all right?" She warned him, "Or I'll have to get my muscle to throw your ass out on the street where it belongs."

Reno sighed, downing the second drink. "You're too hard on me, babe. What can I do to convince you that there's more to me than good looks?"

"Hah!" Tifa barked, "That's a step in the wrong direction right there."

"Whaddya mean?" He asked, holding out his empty glass so that she could refill it.

Tifa performed the simple task without a pause or a blink. "I mean that you're way to into yourself! Not exactly a turn on."

Reno nodded for her to go on.

"And that dirty, I-just-rolled-out-of-bed look isn't that sexy either." A sparkle of mischief appeared in her eyes. "Do you shower on a regular basis, Reno? Or are you one of those guys who bathe once a week and wears the same dirty dress shirt every day?"

Reno made a face. "You're the first woman to complain, sweetheart."

"Don't even put me in the same category as those _girls_ that you take home."

"Being a little judgmental, aren't we?" He cocked a playful brow.

"Oh, please!" she grabbed the now empty glass from him and filled it again; "I'm not blind. I see the chicks that you parade in here with and the ones that you bring home, Reno."

"Everyone deserves a little lovin' every now and then." He said, raising the glass, "Who am I not to give it to 'em?"

"So, if they're free and easy, take 'em to bed?" Tifa asked nastily.

"No, no. If they're free, easy, and not _fat_, underage, or over 40, _then_ bring 'em to bed!"

"You are something else." She said, almost laughing.

"Here, here!" Reno raised the glass a little higher before bringing it to his lips and swallowing it in a quick gulp.

Tifa turned her attention back to another customer who called out for a Heineken. She nodded and reached beneath the bar to retrieve the order from the cooler. Reno tapped his empty glass on the bar, getting her attention. She frowned, taking the cap off of the bottle with an opener and sliding the beer towards the other customer.

"Seriously, babe." Reno began, ignoring her obvious frustration, "Why haven't we gotten to know each other better? What's it been, hm? Four years?"

Tifa sighed, pocketing the tip that the other customer had left for her on the counter top. Reno had been a customer of hers since the opening of the bar. "3 and a half. Bar wasn't open until 6 months after the Fall."

"That's a damn long time!" Reno said after a long whistle, "So how come I don't know anything about you? Well, besides your cup size…"

She whacked him on the arm. "You pig!"

Reno couldn't help but laugh. "Hey, hey! I'm sorry, babe. I couldn't resist!" his laughter died down slowly, "For real… How come you and I don't talk?"

"We talk all the time, Reno." Tifa insisted, "We're talking right now."

"I mean _really_ talk." He said, grabbing her hand, "It always seems like you just wanna get rid of me every time I come in here."

"Something like that." Tifa said, her eyes drifting to his fingers. He had begun caressing the back of her hand lightly with his thumb and forefinger.

"I meant it when I said there was more to me, Lockheart." He said softly, "Who knows, maybe if you give me a chance, I could be the one you've been searching for."

With this comment, Tifa withdrew her hand. "Cut it out, ok? And who says I've been searching for anybody? How do you know I don't have someone waiting for me at home?"

Reno snorted. "Babe… You're joking, right?"

She shook her head.

"Have you _looked_ in the mirror lately?" he pointed at her, "You look like you haven't gotten laid in months. Maybe even years!"

She filled his glass and shoved it towards him violently, spilling some of the liquid on his pants. "Goodbye Reno! Enjoy the rest of your night!"

Tifa didn't wait for a response. She called out to Jose, the other bartender, and told him she'd be making the rounds on the empty tables. The dark-skinned man behind the bar nodded and went back to attending the customers. She ignored Reno, rounded the bar and attended to some dirty tables in the lounge. She hooked a couple of mugs around her pinky finger by their handles, pulled out a white rag and began wiping the round tables down.

"You know, speaking of sex, I'm sensing a little tension between you and I."

Reno's voice was smooth and silky in her ear, slithering like a snake through the grass. She jumped a little, shying away from him and slapping him with her rag.

"This may come as a complete shock to you, but I actually need to work tonight." she gestured around with her hands, "You know, I need to get stuff done. Can't really accomplish much with you breathing down my neck or making comments about my sex life!"

Reno shrugged, grinning, and leaned toward her. Tifa made a face. He smelled of liquor and cigarettes. She preferred Irish Spring and Old Spice. She tried pushing him away, but he was persistent.

"You work too hard." he said with a sigh, "Don't you ever take a break?"

She snarled at him. "I'll give you a break, Reno!"

"Ooh!" he mocked her, "Is that a threat, Lockheart? Are you gonna beat my ass?"

She grimaced. "You'd love that, wouldn't you."

Reno recognized one of the songs that began playing on the jukebox. His eyes lit up and he grinned wickedly. While Tifa was bent over a table, swiping her damp rag across the polished surface with one hand while rearranging glassware with the other, Reno's arms snaked around her waist and turned her to face him.

Her eyes grew wide as Reno gracefully removed the rag and empty mugs from her hands, placing them gently on the table behind her. He then took one of her hands and guided it until it was placed on his shoulder. He took her other hand in his and extended her arm out straight while bringing his other arm around her waist, his palm resting on her lower back. To Tifa's surprise, he began twirling her around the floor, swaying his hips to the rhythm of the song that played. A few of Tifa's long time customers watched in amusement as she was sashayed this way and that by her flame haired dance partner. She flushed bright red before wrenching herself out of his grasp.

"I don't have time for this!" she cried, laughing nervously. She made her way to some of the other tables, scooping up her mugs and rag as she went.

"Aw, Lockheart!" Reno whined, "You're breakin' my heart here! What's a guy gotta do to get into your heart, huh?"

"Trust me, a guy like you will _never_ have access to my heart." She muttered, continuing her sweep of the lounge.

Reno followed the barmaid all the way to the row of tables that lined the back wall of the bar. By now her hands were full, but there was only one last table left to clear. She didn't feel like running the glassware back to the bar, so she passed them off to Reno.

"Make yourself useful." she said, "Since you've decided to follow me around."

"Hold on, babe..." he began to protest, "I don't get paid for this shit--"

The redhead was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a gunshot followed by the shattering of glass. Tifa sprang to attention, quickly scanning the customers in the bar. People started panicking almost instantly; they were screaming, swearing, and scrambling for the exit.

"What the hell...?" Reno made a face.

"Get down!" Tifa shouted, turning a table on its side and ducking behind it.

She couldn't believe it! Edge hadn't seen a fight in a long while and she'd since gotten used to the relative sense of peace around here. As much as running a bar included its fair share of drunken scuffles and fistfights, none had ever included guns—maybe knives, but never guns. No one had ever died inside of her bar and she'd hoped it would stay that way.

Reno had ignored her. He watched the entrance as a trio of silver-haired, leather-clad men burst through the door, knocking over frenzied customers as they went. All three, Reno noticed, were brandishing large-caliber, ivory-plated, silver guns. The man standing in the middle of the three raised his weapon into the air and fired off a few more warning shots, sending the fleeing customers into a deeper craze.

"So, he's the leader, huh?" Reno snarled to himself. He turned to Tifa. "Get up!" he ordered.

"What? Are you crazy?" She asked in disbelief.

He clucked his tongue, grabbed her wrist, and dragged her out from behind the table. It was in that brief moment, as they ran to the bar, she noticed that Reno was packing his own deadly weapon. Before she got a chance to comment, he was throwing her over the bench; her skin was broken and wounded by shattered glass as she landed on the other side.

"You!" the leader said, pointing the barrel of his gun in Reno's direction, "Where the hell do you think you're going, man?"

Tifa peered hesitantly over the top of the bench. She watched as Reno's fingers tightened around the base of the electro mag-rod at his waist. She heard herself scream, but didn't remember doing it, when the man took a shot at Reno.

The redheaded man dodged the first shot and, with one swift motion, drew the rod to full length and swung it at the gunman. The clash of metal upon metal and the hiss of active electric energy rang through the air as the gunman brought his weapon up to meet Reno's.

She thought she heard Reno barking at her to get down, so she did as she was instructed, barely ducking out of the way of a speeding bullet that hadn't necessarily been intended for her. She scrambled into the back room, crawling on all fours the entire time. She pressed her back up against the wall and waited.

What else was she going to do? Reno was still in there, fighting with the crazed gunman. She figured he could probably handle one gun-wielding maniac, but when the other 2 stopped harassing the customers and went to the aid of their companion, she was sure it wouldn't be good for Reno. The muffled sounds of gunshots, screams, and fleeing footsteps filled her ears.

Reno, who was still wrestling with the one gunman, found himself in a bad situation that only got worse. The other 2 gunmen had finished clearing out the last of Seventh Heaven's customers and had rejoined their leader inside. They pointed their guns at Reno and stopped him.

"Hey, Cowboy." the man with short hair and sideburns said coolly.

The other man, whose hair was about as long as Tifa's, shook his head. "Why are you trying to be a hero?"

Their leader, a man with chin-length hair and strange, greenish-yellow eyes, glared at Reno menacingly. "Drop your weapon or you die." he hissed.

Reno sighed and allowed his EMR to fall to the floor. "I'm fucked." he swore under his breath.

"What was that?" the long haired man asked, tilting his head to the side.

"I think he was just about to apologize for bruising my face." the leader said, pushing the barrel of his gun against Reno's temple.

"Bull shit I was!" the stubborn redhead shouted.

The man brought his weapon upward swiftly and brought it down again, hard, against Reno's face. Reno recoiled in pain, hiding his wounded mug behind his hands. The three men began laughing.

"He's a brave one, this." one of them said.

"We'll make sure he dies a very beautiful death. Fit for a hero." another commented.

Reno looked up, glowering at the trio. "What the hell do you whackos want?"

"Whackos we are not!" the leader pressed the barrel of his gun against Reno's forehead this time, "And since you are in a very precarious situation right now, I think you should be a bit nicer, hm?"

"We're looking for the girl." the long-haired man said simply, his voice calm and smooth.

"What girl?" Reno asked.

"Where is she?" The short-haired man, who was also roughest looking of the three, asked.

Reno swallowed. Could they be here looking for Tifa? On the other hand, why would they want her? As far as Reno knew, she was a regular, run of the mill barmaid trying to keep her business going in a city that was falling apart. These guys seemed seasoned, like they'd done this before. They definitely weren't amateurs. They knew what they wanted and they were more than willing to kill anyone who stood in their way to get it. Reno decided that protecting Tifa's identity was in her best interest, as well as his.

"I don't know who you're talking about." Reno shook his head, "On the other hand, if you're looking for girls, my buddy Cosmo could hook you up with some of the best pros in town. Granted, some of them haven't completed their gender reassignment surgery yet..."

"A funny guy, huh?"

This voice was new, male, and caused all four--gunmen and hostage--to look up. Standing in the doorway was an unkempt young man; He appeared to be in his 20's and his head was thick with spiky black hair. His eyes were a shockingly deep shade of violet. He was accompanied by five others, all armed with assault rifles and pistols. They were all wearing black jackets with a red insignia displayed on the sleeve.

"Ah!" The leader of the three gunmen seemed amused, "If it isn't Zack Fair and his loyal followers."

"Crimson Archangels!" The long-haired man grinned, "How pleasant."

Reno's eyes grew wide. Archangels? Here? He'd heard stories about them: a group of rebels who had raised arms against the government and the PM during the Fall, refusing to bow to the will of the "tyrant" Sephiroth. They believed that someone inside the government had something to do with the assassination of Sir Dyne and Lady Eleanor. Bunch of conspiracy theorists, Reno thought.

But the true motives of the Crimson Archangels had remained a mystery. They were a selfish bunch of street urchins—punks trying to make their own laws and run with them. They had no respect for authority and no concept of loyalty. But one had to wonder why they had appeared now, in such a place, and what their motives were. After years of being dormant, why suddenly reappear now?

"Shut your mouths or become Fang food." Zack barked, pointing his gun at the men. He looked at Reno. "You."

"Uh... yeah?" Reno asked, cocking a brow.

"Where's the girl?" Zack echoed the question of the gunmen.

"For the love of Shiva..." Reno shook his head, "I don't know _who_ you are talking about! I know a lot of girls!"

Zack chuckled. "Do you know who I am, vermin?"

"Dude…" Reno chuckled, "I have no clue."

"I'm the leader of the Crimson Archangels and you'd do well to listen to what I say!" the dark-haired man pointed his gun in Reno's direction.

"Whoa, whoa!" he chuckled nervously, "Take it easy there, Tonto! Look, there's been a _really big _misunderstanding here…" he addressed everyone, "You see, I just got off of work at 4—I had a really busy day—and I was just stopping by here for a drink when you all came in. So…" he paused briefly, "I'm sorry to have wasted your time. I'm just an average guy! I don't know anyth—"

"Hold your tongue before I cut it out of your mouth!" The short-haired gunman growled, pulling a large knife from a sheath attached to his belt.

Reno swallowed his tongue. "Ok. Let's just not be hasty."

"You sure do talk a lot." Zack said, stepping towards the trio and their captive, "What's your name?"

"I have a lot of names…" Reno said stubbornly, "Some people call me 'Jack Ass', others call me 'Fire Crotch'…"

Zack chuckled. "You really are a comedian, ain't ya?"

"I try."

"Well, funny man, I think you know more than you're letting on." Zack said, moving his gun from Reno to the leader of the gunmen, "And if you don't mind… I think we'll take it from here. Thank you for being so helpful, really."

"Zack, Zack…" The leader of the leather-clad gunmen began menacingly, "You know better than to tread on our turf."

"_Your_ turf?" Zack chuckled. His companions followed suit. "I know these streets better than the three of you put together! You all are just a bunch of brain washed freaks, engineered to become deadly assassins because there was no other use for you!"

"I will not have you talk about brother that way!" the long haired man raised his voice.

"Yeah!" the tough-looking gunman wasn't looking so tough now with tears in his eyes, "You meanie!"

"Don't cry, Loz." the man with long hair said, his voice soft and quiet again.

"You should choose your words more carefully, Zack Fair." The leader said gravely, staring the dark haired man down.

"Let's take these assholes out!" one of Zack's overzealous companions suggested.

"Very well." Zack said, resigned. "Let's show 'em whose turf this _really_ is!"

"Take us out?" the leader of the three gunmen was almost laughing. "I'd like to see you _try_!"

Reno was tossed to the side as the gun-wielding three took on the Crimson Archangels. Though they appeared to be outnumbered, the trio of maniacs were doing quite well. They brawled with the rebel group in a cloud of spraying bullets, flying fists, blood and saliva.

Reno was no fool. He didn't stick around to watch. He took the opportunity to slink away, crawling behind the bench and slipping into the back room. Tifa was huddled against a wall.

When she saw him, she gasped and almost hugged him. "Are they gone?" she hissed.

"No." Reno shook his head and grabbed the woman by her elbow. "We gotta get the hell outta here. Things just got a little more complicated..."

* * *

A/N: Ok. So sorry if this fic turns out to go in, like, 500 different directions. If there's any confusion or whatever, please do let me know.

There may be some OOCness. I apologize for that. Um... obviously I've tweeked a few things to make the fic work, so... yeah. That's it until next time.


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